


In Windermere

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Antiques Road Trip, British TV Celebrities RPF
Genre: Drabble, Embarrassment, Flirting, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 09:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: I was watching a repeat of the delightful Antiques Road Trip earlier (god, do I know how to spend an evening!) and was struck with what adorable chemistry this pair had. Let's be honest - touring around the country together in a classic car is a rather shippy activity!There was a moment where David's hands were cold and he let the lady in the antiques store feel them. I thought it would have been much cuter had it have been Paul. A cheeky drabble.





	In Windermere

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

"Come on, slow poke," Paul's Scottish voice roared. The little horn on their classic red topless Triumph sounded waspish and annoyed, repeatedly pressed by the perpetrator, who was basking in the sound of its honk. "Can you _hear_ that? Hurry up!"  
  
"If you blow that hooter again, I'll stick it up your--" David then laughed, pointing at Paul, who was laughing too, mouth agape. He scuttled down the road, leaving a row of shops in his wake. It was raining slightly; as it was Windermere, this was _hardly_ surprising. And the drizzle felt icy.  
  
They were shopping for antiques in the Lake District. _Whatever next?_ It _was_, after all, the name of the game - to buy bits and bats all over the country and try to make a profit at auction. But, for every large, luxurious and modern, well-heated antiques centre, there were ten tiny 'Aladdin's cave' type shops, nooks and crannies chock full of collectables, with the bloody _temperature_ of a cave to boot.  
  
"It's freezing," David approached the car, blowing hot air into his hands. He held them out for Paul to grab, "Just feel my hands."  
  
"God, they are cold," came a shocked reply.  
  
"Aah, but _cold_ hands - _warm_ heart," he said, and Paul winked back at him as if to say 'I bet'. "Get out then - I'm driving the next bit," the bald man told him.  
  
"Is that right?" Paul asked, his accent heavy.  
  
"It's the only way you can put your arm round me while we're driving, to keep me warm."  
  
Laidlaw shot a glance at Harper which said 'come off it', but received a pleading look in return. Soon he was undoing the latch on the car door, with a clunk, and pacing round to the other side of the car, getting into the passenger side. He held out his arms and nodded towards the empty seat, watching the other expert get in.  
  
"Thank you. You're sweet," David smiled, expecting Paul's arm duly wrapped around him. But, instead, what he got was Paul _mounting_ him, one leg over his lap as he straddled him - and his _chest_ \- white-shirt clad and framed by a beige jacket, thrust so close to his face that he could even _smell_ the Scot's zesty, strong-scented aftershave. "Christ, mate - you're a fast mover!" he yelled in surprise.  
  
"I'm-- I'm trying to reach the _road map_," he explained, flustered and stuttering.


End file.
